Outside, The September Air Was Enticingly Fragrant,

Avoid Men Who Call You Baby, And Women Who Have No Friends, And Dogs That Scratch At Their Bellies And Refuse To Lie Down At Your Feet. Wear Dark Glasses; Bathe With Lavender Oil And Cool Fresh Water. Seek Shelter From The Sun At Noon.

My Theory Is That Everyone At One Time Or Another Has Been At The Fringe Of Society In Some Way: An Outcast In High School, A Stranger In A Foreign Country, The Best At Something, The Worst At Something, The One Who's Different. Being An Outsider Is The One Thing We All Have In Common.

Anyway, The Sort Of Love That Will Not Wait Is Probably Best To Pass By

A Boy Who Is Trouble Is Something Entirely Different As A Man.

This Day Is Going To Be Awful. It's The Sort Of Day You Wouldn't Mind Losing Completely, Even If It Meant Your Life Would Be Twenty-four Hours Shorter.